


MerlinWATGame: Team 6!

by Florian_Gray, foxelot, MerlinWATMod (ViridianJane), Rawks, ViridianJane



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragonlord Merlin, Fire, M/M, Magic Revealed, Rescue Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florian_Gray/pseuds/Florian_Gray, https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxelot/pseuds/foxelot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/MerlinWATMod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawks/pseuds/Rawks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/ViridianJane
Summary: In which a Dragonlord's bloodline has a few physical traits, and there is really ever only one choice for Arthur.





	1. Fic: Foxelot

**Author's Note:**

> Here is Team 6, all done! Well done and congratulations to all participants, I hope you guys enjoyed playing!
> 
> Again, a reminder as to how this works: each piece, with the exception of the first, was created based on, and only on, the one before it. This allows for some fun twists and turns by the end of the story!

The fire was nearly out when Merlin heard the screams. His head whipped in the direction of one of the last few burning houses. All of the clear exits to the house were blocked with smoke and fire, but Merlin had his magic. His eyes spared a half-second glance at Arthur, who was directing the villagers and lending them his strength to carry buckets to get the fires out, before Merlin darted towards the screams.

At first, it seemed like no one noticed Merlin running off. Then, just before he disappeared into the house, Merlin heard a single shout in a voice that nearly gave him pause. “Merlin!” came Arthur’s frantic call, and there was finally fear in his voice, a fear for Merlin, something not even the raging fire had managed. But Merlin didn’t stop, stepping through the wall of flames and into the house. This wasn’t something anyone else could do, and he had to try and save whoever was inside.

The inside of the house was nearly entirely engulfed and Merlin had to call on his magic almost immediately as the beams holding the roof up groaned and the smoke tried to invade his lungs. Flames tried to lick at the sleeves of his tunic, but Merlin ignored them. The screams were getting louder. It wasn’t until Merlin was nearly across the house that he finally found their source in the form of a little girl, no more than four or five, trying to rouse her father amidst the inferno. Merlin all but threw himself at them as the roof groaned again, just reaching them in time to shield them with his body and magic as the house finally caved in.

* * *

 

 

It took all of Arthur’s self-control to not run after his idiot manservant as he watched Merlin run into one of the burning houses, but the villagers needed him. It was one versus many, even if that one was Merlin. Instead Arthur forced his focus onto getting the fires out. Merlin’s foolish actions would all be for naught if Arthur let the rest of the buildings burn down as well. And it worked well enough until Arthur heard the crack and break of wood in the direction Merlin had run. Whirling around to face the house, Arthur froze, mouth agape as he watched the house collapse. Not because it had fallen, many of the houses around them had broken and fallen, but because Merlin was still inside. “Merlin!” he called out for a second time, running towards the house, all other thoughts banished from his mind. “Merlin?" 

The roof’s fall had smothered out some of the flames in the building below, but the air was still thick with black smoke, making Arthur cough. His eyes stung as he searched for any sign of life among the debris. It took a moment, but then he saw it, a single, pale, familiar hand covered in soot. “Merlin!”

Arthur hurried over to where the hand was. By this point, a couple of the other villagers had joined him, but Arthur barely noticed they were there as his mind could only focus on getting to Merlin, on getting Merlin to safety. It made his hands sting and burn as he pulled fallen pieces of charred wood from where they’d collapsed, but he didn’t stop until he could see Merlin. When he had finally uncovered the majority of his manservant, it was clear to Arthur what had happened, but the idea made his stomach churn a little. Merlin wasn’t allowed to be hurt... or worse.

Carefully, he put a hand to Merlin’s shoulder, relief flooding him when he could feel Merlin breathing. There was still hope yet that the brunette hadn’t done something entirely stupid then. Just as Arthur was about to turn the idiot over, he heard a soft, “Arthur...” Because Merlin would never assume anyone else had come to his rescue. “Are they okay?"

It was only then that Arthur turned his gaze to the two people Merlin had so recklessly tried to save. “Yes, they’re okay,” he assured the manservant, motioning the other villagers over to help him get the girl and her father to safety. Once they had been moved, Arthur could allow himself to focus on Merlin, which is all he ever really wanted to do, but his people came first.

When it was just the two of them again, Arthur finally turned Merlin. He knew the other man was alive, but he didn’t yet know the extent of the damage that had been caused from what he could only assume was Merlin throwing himself over top the small family he’d saved. What he saw when he could finally see Merlin properly made his breath catch in his throat. Instead of angry, red burns, the left side of Merlin’s body, at least what Arthur could see of his shoulder and face, were covered in what seemed to be scales so dark they appeared black except the parts where the sun hit, making them shine purple. There also seemed to be horns of some kind protruding from Merlin’s hair, silver and curling towards the back of his head. “Merlin...?” he managed weakly, lungs still refusing to work properly.

Hearing his name, Merlin opened his eyes, and any chance Arthur had of breathing properly disappeared again. Both of Merlin’s eyes were still their usual blue, but the pupils were reptilian in nature now, vertical slits as he stared at Arthur instead of the usual dark circles. If Arthur hadn’t already realized something was wrong with the scales, he most certainly did now. And he also knew that he had two choices from this point. He could make a scene, call out the obvious sorcery at work here, or he could keep Merlin’s condition out of sight, keep it a secret between just the two of them, until it could be dealt with. As soon as the thoughts crossed his mind, Arthur knew which option he’d be taking. With a quick glance around them to see that the villagers were all still focused on the little remaining fire and tending to any injured, Arthur hauled Merlin up, taking most of the other man’s weight onto himself, and moved them away from the destroyed house. There was a line of trees, untouched by the blaze, that he could hide Merlin in for a moment, just long enough to deal with the villagers and get them set on recovering.

As Arthur got Merlin settled and started to move away again, he felt a hand on his arm and the telltale prick of claws through his shirt, though he was almost certain Merlin hadn’t had those before. Was the problem spreading? “I’ll be right back,” he assured Merlin, moving his own hand to remove the grip and trying not to think about how wrong scales felt under his fingers. “Then we can deal with this, okay?”

At the words, Arthur felt Merlin relax. The manservant still seemed kind of out of it. Whether it was the magic or exhaustion Arthur wasn’t sure, but he could reasonably gather that Merlin was aware enough of what was going on, and Arthur leaving had made him nervous. “Don’t go anywhere,” were Arthur’s final instruction before he got back to his feet and headed towards the village again.

* * *

 

 

Between throwing himself over the little girl and her father and Arthur pulling him out of the rubble again, Merlin has no recollection of what happened. He doesn’t remember the fire finally touching his skin, licking at the flesh there. He doesn’t remember the burn of the smoke in his lungs. He just remembers throwing as much magic around the family as he could and focusing on nothing more than keeping them safe. And then there was nothing until he felt Arthur’s hand on him, though there was something distinctly off about it. It wasn’t until Arthur pulled him away from everyone else that Merlin got the chance to figure it out. 

For a moment he watched the prince walking away from him again, but then Merlin looked down at his arm, his hand. He looked at the scales and the claws, ran his human fingers over them. This had never happened before and Merlin couldn’t figure out why it had now. Was it his magic’s way of protecting him from the fire? Or was it something to do with his Dragonlord powers? He had no way to really know since he knew so little about each. It also scared him, but it didn’t scare him as much as it had when Arthur walked away from him and Merlin didn’t know how the prince was taking the transformation. Merlin didn’t even know how to take it.

Luckily, Merlin got his answer about Arthur sooner than later, as the prince walked back over to him with a cloak that he must have gotten from their packs. He seemed calm enough for now, and Merlin took solace in that. Once they were alone and out of sight though... Merlin wasn’t so sure what would happen then. Regardless, he wrapped the cloak around himself, frowning slightly when Arthur moved to pull the hood up. He hadn’t thought it was anywhere but his arm, but judging by the action, it was.

Now concealed, Merlin let Arthur lead him toward the horses, keeping his head down. As they went, none of the now somewhat displaced villagers said anything to them, and Merlin thought Arthur must have taken care of them before collecting him. It eased more of the still lingering anxiety, but the feeling quickly reared its head again once they’d reached the horses. This was it. This was where Arthur would lose his cool.

Peeking from under his hood, Merlin kept an eye on Arthur as they set out without a word to each other or to anyone else. He wanted to say something, to explain things somehow, but words failed him. There was no explanation that could make this better, that could make this less magical. So instead they rode in silence until Arthur finally cracked and broke it.

“What the hell were you thinking, Merlin?” the prince demanded without pausing their ride or even looking at the warlock. “Just running into the house like that.”

“That there were people inside and I could help them.” It was an obvious answer, but of course Arthur wouldn’t have known Merlin could help them and come out okay before it actually happened. Arthur hadn’t known about the magic before then. But now he did, or he was voluntarily blind to it. “I didn’t know this would happen when I did.”

“Is there a way to reverse it?” Arthur tried to keep his tone casual, but there was a subtle edge to it. An acknowledgment for what it was without having to actually acknowledge it. An acceptance that it was magical and Merlin without saying the words.

“I don’t know. It seems to have appeared in the spots that would have been burned, as a protective shield maybe? But I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“Even the horns and eyes?”

“...the what?” Merlin pulled his horse to a stop and stared at Arthur as his human hand moved up to find the horns that were being spoken of. He might have squeaked a little as he found them, but he would deny it later.

“You kind of look like you’re.... Part dragon?” Arthur explained hesitantly as he pulled his horse up next to Merlin’s, both because he’d only ever really seen one actual dragon and not very up close and also because that was just a weird thing to consider altogether.

Well that settled Merlin’s question on if it was the magic or the Dragonlord powers, because he was almost certain it was the latter now. “I....There’re some things we should probably talk about,” he said with a slight grimace.

Arthur frowned at him then, more than he already had been. “ _Are_ you part dragon?”

“Erm, kind of, in a sense.”

The frown deepened. “We should definitely have that talk then. Perhaps on the way back while I decide if I want to wring your neck for scaring me like that or not.”

Debating for a moment whether to call Arthur out on admitting his fear, Merlin just nodded with a faint smile. “Yes, Sire.”


	2. Art: Jamiejamesd




	3. Fic: Callmehopeless

**The Monster the Prince saves the Princess from**

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and willed the screams to stop. He wasn't even sure they were Merlin's anymore. At least not just Merlin's. He was almost certain that some of the screams were escaping _his_ throat, slicing it all the way up adding pain to the agony in his chest.

Suddenly, there was silence.

His hair was plastered to his face, a drop of sweat dropping down onto his armour. He blinked his eyes open slowly and stood up straight from where he was crouching against a cell door – Merlin's cell door.

He turned around and glanced around the dark, unforgiving stone prison. His eyes immediately found Merlin's.

“Arthur,” he croaked out. Smoke was coming out of Merlin's nose while he spoke which sent him straight into a coughing fit. Arthur raked his eyes over his manservant's body, the cuts all over his naked chest, the deep wound where Arthur had stabbed him when he... 'turned', just to keep him from escaping.

Arthur's eyes darted back up to Merlin's face. Merlin was still coughing and breathing up smoke but his teeth seemed to be incredibly... human.

His fingernails, too.

No claws nor fangs in sight. Arthur's breath came a little easier at the realisation.

However there still was the slight problem of the two huge dragon wings sticking out of Merlin's back and the patched skin that appeared to be rough and firm like dragon skin all over Merlin's form.

“Merlin? Are you okay?”

No answer.

Arthur watched as Merlin's face turned redder and redder from the exhaustion of having too much smoke in his lungs and instantly made up his mind.

“Guard,” he yelled and waited for the man to appear from behind a heavy steel door.

“Open the door.”

The guard did as he was asked and opened the heavy iron door that separated Arthur from Merlin, his Merlin.

He rushed to Merlin's side and held him, turned him in an upright position so he could breathe and cough more freely (or so he hoped).

He didn't dare to free Merlin of his handcuffs yet, just in case he still was a threat to himself or others but that didn't stop Arthur from stroking Merlin's head absent mindedly and making (or so he hoped) comforting noises.

When Merlin finally seemed to calm down, so did Arthur and let himself fall back against the thick stone wall of the cell, his hand still buried in Merlin's hair.

“Don't scare me like that ever again,” he whispered and was relieved beyond belief when he heard Merlin chuckle in return.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. His, and Merlin's (which still sounded a bis raspier and smokier than Arthur would have liked).

He heard Merlin shuffling a bit, the heavy chains that bound Merlin to the corner of his prison edging across the harsh and cold stone floor until Arthur felt Merlin settling down on his lap.

Arthur smiled and used his second hand to caress Merlin's back, careful not to touch the slowly shrinking wings.

“What happened?” Merlin asked, sounding tired.

“You turned.”

A snort.

“I figured, did I hurt anyone?”

“You mean except yourself?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Arthur thought about the pain in his heart. The pain that first appeared when the first turn happened. Dragonlords had been gone for so long that nobody had bothered to tell Merlin that this would happen. That he would turn when the full moon aligned with the starsigns of the Old Religion to awake 'The Beast' to protect it. The Old Religion.

When it had first happened, Merlin had wiped out a small town. When Merlin came to, and learned of what he'd done, he wept for weeks. Arthur couldn't do anything but hold him.

The next time, Merlin was prepared. He'd studied the stars and had planned ahead so that he could be far, far away from any civilisation when it happened. He killed a group of travellers.

Merlin didn't weep afterwards. He went back to planning. He had accepted his fate and figured that the best he could do was to find a way for him to turn without hurting anyone.

It took them two years to build a prison cell strong enough.

While more and more people lived as time went on, Arthur's pain only grew. And then he would just comb through Merlin's hair and make sure that he was okay and he knew that this was his pain to bear.

 

“The breathing fire is new,” Merlin finally commented and turned in Arthur's lap so he could look up and into the king's eyes.

Arthur nodded. _Yes, Merlin_ , he wanted to say, _I have noticed, you almost suffocated from it you prat._ But he didn't.

“I can see up your nose,” Merlin said instead and pulled Arthur out of his thoughts about how he couldn't loose Merlin to something as stupid as him burning up from inside, he just couldn't.

“You can't just look up your king's nose,” he said but even he knew that there was no bite in his tone. Merlin knew it too when he still said: “Dollophead”, with all the fondness his could muster.

The wings and patches of dragon skin finally disappeared completely and Merlin started shivering. Arthur freed him of his bondages and helped him stand up before they made their way to Arthur's chambers, where they lay together in front of the roaring fireplace. Arthur linked their fingers together and brought them up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to their joint hands. He wanted to tell Merlin he loved him. Every day for the rest of their lives. But just like any other day when he felt this way, he couldn't. So he kissed their hands instead. Their joint hands. Together forever. Arthur and Merlin. Two sides of the same coin. Destiny. Merlin smiled, looking at him like he always looked at him after one of his 'episodes'. With empty and sad eyes. Slowly, he made a move to stand up.

“Stay,” Arthur silently begged, his voice only slightly above a whisper.

Merlin stood up anyway, slowly letting go of Arthur's hand.

“I'm not a princess, Arthur. I am the monster the prince saves the princess from,” he said.

Arthur wanted to protest. Tried to figure out the right thing to say.

I know you're not a princess...

You're not a monster...

I'm not a prince...

I love you...

But just as always, he stayed silent.

Merlin leaned down to press a soft kiss to Arthur's forehead.

“Goodnight, little prince,” he murmured before he silently left. The door fell shut and all of the words Arthur couldn't say echoed in the suddenly cold and too big and empty room.

 

 


	4. Art: Monoka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find more of Monoka's artwork at mon0ch.tumblr.com!


	5. Fic: Rawks

Merlin lay heavy and limp in Arthur’s arms, warm blood trickling from his wounds, bubbles rising from the deep gash across his chest. He breathed in shallow rasps, lips cracked and skin pale. His arms, still shackled by chains, lay limp and weak.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered hoarsely, right hand gently holding Merlin’s neck and he bit back tears.

“I am a Dragonlord, Arthur. You—only you… Two halves… other side.” The large, leathery dragon wings stretched and creaked as pain wracked through Merlin’s body. He began coughing blood, convulsing and hacking until it turned his tongue and lips red.

Arthur watched in horror. The imminent death of someone so close was a very real threat to his sanity. “I don’t know what any of that means. What half?” He looked around the dungeon they were in, spying for objects which would confirm Merlin’s words.

Merlin shook his head weakly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing it red. The chains around his wrists allowed him only the bare minimum amount of movement. He looked as though he wished to speak, brows creasing and flecks of gold sparkling in his eyes, but the deep rumble of approaching enemies interrupted them.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Arthur said and licked his lips. The power of this place disturbed him. The fear that lived inside of these walls. He lifted Merlin, who complained and hacked a painful, breathless cough, and carried him out. His heart was in his throat, but he concentrated on escaping the dark armies closing in on them, recalling the way out, and avoiding crooked tiles. _One foot in front of the other. Keep going_. The weight in his arms was a heavy, burning comfort: Merlin was still alive. “We’ll have to come back for the other half later.”

“No,” Merlin complained, lifting an arm around Arthur’s neck to hold himself stable as they walked. “It’s… I… You…” He closed his eyes and rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder.

“Stay with me, Merlin. That is an order!” He hoisted Merlin a little higher, earning him a moan of pain. Good. That meant he wasn’t dead yet. “Can’t understand a bloody word you’re saying. I’ll get you out of here and get you what you need.”

Up ahead, daylight cast a bright hue on the tiles. It was ever so welcome after the dark torchlit corridors. Just one more corner. He dug his fingers into Merlin’s body, hoping to convey his resolution that they _would_ get out of here. Camelot’s army would be close now. There would still be time to ensure Merlin got what he needed to recover.

Turning around the final corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. Before them stood their greatest enemy, shrouded in a dark cloak and holding a grand magical staff. Beside them, their three best guards. Arthur’s heart froze over, and he stood, petrified. _No! They were too late!_

“Not one more step, Arthur Pendragon!” the twisted voice yelled. Only, it no longer sounded like them. “You will not take him from us. We will have our plans fulfilled.”

“A-Arthur,” Merlin rasped, close to his neck. His fingers were cold around Arthur’s shoulder, holding on, still holding on. Arthur didn’t even know where he got the strength from. It broke his heart to think of Merlin no longer being in the world, after these villains were done with him. He couldn’t lose him.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” he said, leaning his head down. “I can’t get you what you need.” He wished he had his sword with him.

The figure before them brought their staff down on the ground sharply, and a light erupted from the top. It removed the spell that had cloaked them, hidden them from Arthur’s vision, to reveal Nimueh, flanked by Mordred, Alvarr and… Balinor, with his wings folded neatly behind him.

“So, it’s you,” Arthur said. “You orchestrated all of this… in name of the Old Religion.” He felt utterly betrayed. His muscles were sore from carrying Merin. But he had to hold on. His heart told him. Just a moment longer… just a little while until his troops arrived. 

“He is a creature of the Old Religion, Arthur. There is nothing you can change about the impending ritual,” Nimueh said with her sweet voice.

“Give him back to us,” Balinor grumbled.

Mordred was quiet, his eerie blue eyes glaring at the scene before him. Where he had once been a bright child, full of ideals, he had now been twisted by the dark promises of the High Priestess, Arthur thought. What a shame, he could have been such a great knight.

“Your ritual will never restore your power, not in the way you believe. For all the destruction you have brought, the people would never be loyal to you!” Arthur shouted.

“Says a Pendragon,” Alvarr spat.

“I am not my father!” Arthur took a step forward. He wished he could fight them, but it was useless, tasting the bitter tang of bile at the back of his throat. Four of the most powerful beings were standing before him. And all of them, Arthur thought, might have been allies at one point. Allies of Camelot. If only…

“It’s… alright,” Merlin murmured, licking the blood off his cracked lips. “I just need one thing.”

“Don’t say another word!” Balinor warned, taking a step forward. His eyes glowed as the ground rumbled. “You have taken everything from me already, foolish boy!”

Arthur knelt down and made Merlin comfortable on the cold stone tiles, his arms burning. He felt like a failure for being unable to hold him longer, which was absurd. His mind panicked and heart was aflutter, Arthur gulped and feared that this might be the end. “Anything, Merlin. Anything.” He had failed. It would all be over. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He felt Merlin’s hand on his cheek.

Nimueh pointed her staff forward. “No!”

Alvarr began casting a spell.

But it was too late. “I need to know your heart.” Merlin reached up and kissed Arthur.

Like magic, Arthur thought, feeling like he was slotted back into place. His brain went numb, shutting the panic out, and the coldness he had felt in his heart, from the cold stone tiles, and from Merlin’s fingers were suddenly ablaze with heat. _Yes_ , was the strong thought in his mind. _Yes, I give all of myself to you. Just don’t leave me. Ever._

Visions swam in his mind of the clouded sky, closer than it ought to be. He looked down and saw the ground far below, as a Dragonlord might witness in flight. He saw visions of the tall mountains with heavy waterfalls which the Dragonlords had called home. He saw the fires in their souls which gave them their magic. And one fire in particular. In his vision he focused on that. That one flame. It was small at first, but grew as Arthur approached it. He knew this fire. He knew it. It was Merlin. He wanted this fire, he wanted to feed it, keep it, protect it. The love he felt for this fire was so earth-shatteringly overwhelming that he nearly missed the sound of a horn in the distance.

The sound brought him back to reality, as Merlin pulled back from the kiss. Instead of a clammy sheen on his skin, there was a rosy hue to his cheeks. His lips were no longer bloodied. Arthur huffed in surprise and frightened delight—

Until Alvarr’s blast shoved them roughly up against the wall in a cloud of dust and rubble. Nimueh was casting the next spell at them, wanting to finish them off, when Camelot’s armies burst through the gate, spears, torches and swords ready. The four sorcerers jumped back and began casting their magic at the soldiers instead. Their window of time for the ritual was closing, and closing fast. So they became ruthless against their enemies.

Arthur was winded, barely catching his breath from the blast, and flailing his arms in search of Merlin. Until he felt a hand grab his and hoist him to his feet. It was Merlin, still bruised but less broken. The chains around his wrists remained, but at least he was alive and healing. Merlin dragged him back around the corner where they had come from, while the sorcerers were distracted by Camelot’s armies. “You,” he looked at Merlin in wonder. “I saw you. I saw your magic.”

“You found me,” Merlin said with a painful, hopeful smile. He searched Arthur’s eyes for more.

“And I will never lose you again,” Arthur swore. He saw the truth in Merlin’s eyes as he nodded, elated beyond belief that they were bright and steady. “You have to fight them,” he said solemnly. He knew that these were Merlin’s people and it would be ever so painful.

“I don’t,” Merlin said. “You do.”

Arthur shook his head. There was no time to discuss this. Camelot’s army would only be able to hold off the sorcerers for so long. His soldiers were dying. “I don’t have my sword. I know I cannot ask this of you, but your magic—”

“I can’t use it. I don’t have it,” Merlin interrupted him, looking down for a moment. “But you do.”

“What? Don’t be absurd!” Arthur turned the corner to look and saw that his knights were right beside the soldiers, Sir Gwaine in front with a green shield, trying to block as many blasts coming his way as possible. He swung his sword to try and reach Alvarr and Nimueh, but stayed clear of Mordred. Perhaps the break of their knightly camaraderie was too painful still. 

“Arthur, you are in possession of it now. I will help you, but you must cast it.”

“How can I—?”

“That was the ritual,” Merlin interrupted, “but none of them would ever have gotten it. I could never have given it to any of them. You can give it back later. You will give it back, right?”

“Are you really saying that I…?”

“Now, Arthur. There isn’t much time! It has to be you.”

 _It was always you_ , Arthur heard instead. He wanted to reach out for Merlin, but had no idea how. Merlin saw the reach of his hand though, and grabbed his forearm, giving it a firm squeeze.

But as Arthur stepped around the corner, he came face to face with Balinor, who had come to fight his son. Balinor’s eyes still glowed maliciously, and he sneered at Arthur. “You have failed! You cannot protect your realm and your allies have turned. What do you have left, Pendragon?”

“Father, no!” Merlin said, his voice higher than usual in the vicinity of the man who could, and should have raised him to be a proper Dragonlord.

Arthur realized that Balinor didn’t yet know the ritual was completed. He had to use this opportunity, but he had no idea how. “A little help here,” he asked.

“Forbaernan,” Merlin replied.

That was the moment Balinor realized what had happened. He spread his wings and began chanting something forceful, the stone walls shaking with power.

But Arthur summoned his might, his belief in Merlin, and his love and yelled, _“Forbaernan!” a_ nd interrupted Balinor’s spellcasting by setting his clothes on fire. Arthur felt the tingling through his body and the rush it gave him to produce the spell. It was like nothing he had ever known.

“Next time, bring your hand forward for more power.”

“Shut up and move already,” Arthur said, shoving Merlin aside to assess the battlefield. They would only have a moment until Balinor would recover. He might not have his sword, but he could fight. To the death if needed.

“Arthur!” Sir Leon shouted.

Alvarr disengaged his fight with Leon and rushed towards Arthur and Merlin, yelling a battlecry. The hate on his face contorted his features.

“It’s too late!” Balinor shouted to Alvarr, having doused the flames.

“Then they will _both_ die!” Alvarr roared.

“ _Forb_ —” Arthur had begun to cast, but paused as Alvarr stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. There was a sword protruding from his back.

Had Leon got him? Arthur took a step back, feeling the warmth of Merlin behind him, who put a hand around his back to steady him.

When Alvarr fell down to the floor, none other than Mordred stood there, pulling his bloodied sword back. He looked at Arthur with a deep, powerful devotion. “Your eyes… so it’s you.” He looked straight at Arthur and pointed his sword to the ground.

“Mordred! You traitor!” Balinor shouted, catching Nimueh’s attention at last.

“Quick,” Merlin said, close behind Arthur, “Repeat these words!”

Mordred shook his head. “Not me, I am loyal!”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” Nimueh shouted. “The Old Religion will not—”

“The Old Religion has always had my loyalty, whoever the gift is bestowed upon!” Mordred called out. He turned his back to Arthur and Merlin and stood between them and his new foes: Balinor and Nimueh. “It was never going to be me, but it might have been you. But you ruined it! Now, you see what has happened. If you acknowledge the will of magic, you will stand down!”

“I have given everything to the Pendragons,” Nimueh called out. “It will not be my fate to serve another! It should have been me!”

But Arthur had already started casting, repeating the words Merlin whispered into his ear, his mouth tantalizingly close, with a hand still warm on his back. He hoped he had done it right. It certainly felt like power was building up. In front of them, Mordred raised his sword and pushed Balinor back, who had begun to fly up in an attempt to escape. He would not get out this time.

“Your selfishness is your undoing, Nimueh, not your power or your belief!” Mordred spat.

Gwaine, Leon and Percival paused, in front of the rest of the armies, watching Arthur in shock. Since the sorcerers were ignoring them, they caught their breath and observed in awe.

As Merlin finished his spell, Arthur reached out with both of his hands. The magic within him coiled and spun like a storm. The air around him began to move and he felt light as a feather in his chainmail. Before he knew it, he was off the ground. Merlin was lifting him up, flapping his wings and giving him a height advantage. That’s when Arthur saw. Balinor and Nimueh standing in the center of the room, the knights behind them and Mordred to the side.

As the magic was released from his hands, lightning struck right through the sky, through the dungeon and onto the spot where Nimueh stood. It brought with it a foul stench of ozone, and electrified all the air around it, so that everyone’s hair stood up, and all the swords became too hot to touch.

Of Nimueh, nothing but a smoking spot remained where she had stood. However, Balinor, standing alone, was unable to give up. After all his years of hatred, there was no love left. Not even for the magic that gave him his powers. He flew up through the hole that the lightning bolt had created and disappeared.

The horn of Camelot was blown three times, signalling that the battle was over.

Merlin landed, more roughly than intended and they ended up in a heap on the floor, Arthur scraping his underside rather unpleasantly.

  
“Merlin!” Arthur called out and turned to survey if any damage was done to him. “Are you hurt?' 

But Merlin simply folded his wings behind him and looked up at the gaping hole through the roof. “I will be… given time.” He glanced at Arthur and smiled at him. “You saved me."

Arthur felt his heart fill. Despite the blood stains on Merlin’s clothes and skin, he would be fine. Eventually.

“My lord,” a voice called from behind him. Arthur turned and saw Mordred, except he wasn’t bowing to Arthur, but to Merlin.

The other knights and soldiers advanced and knelt before the two of them.

Merlin let out a sigh. He had never wanted to assume this position. He got up, wincing and proclaimed. “Arthur Pendragon is still my king. Please, do not bow for me.”

“Maybe it’s not just me,” Arthur said, coming to stand close to Merlin. “Maybe it’s both of us. You said… two halves. That’s what it means, right?”

Merlin smiled shyly and flapped his wings nervously. “Until today, it might have been any of them. But when you came to save me, that’s when I knew.” He bit his lip. “Maybe I knew before then, too.”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. “Come on then, idiot. We return victorious. Besides, I still have to give you back your magic. Another ritual I suppose?”

A cheeky grin. “I know how you love those, after all.”


	6. Team 6

Again a big thank you to all of the member of Team 4! In order, the members are:

 

1\. [Foxelot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxelot/pseuds/foxelot)

2\. [JamesD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamiejamesd/pseuds/Jamiejamesd)

3\. [CallmeHopeless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeHopeless/pseuds/CallMeHopeless)

4\. [Monoka](mon0ch.tumblr.com)

5. [Rawks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawks/pseuds/Rawks)

 

Thank you for reading, and please keep an eye out for more MerlinWATGame teams!


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